Escape from Atu
Forewarned of the destruction of Atu by the sun-god Kabal, aproximately 1,000 slaves and priests commandeered 49 fishing vessels and fled into the unknown, narrowly escaping the eruption of mount Horah. He Dreams of the Abyss He dreams of the abyss, cold and dark, like death’s womb wrapped around him. Suspended motionless, surrounded in all directions by impenetrable black, he wonders what ancient god resides here, beneath the waves. The Atutu worship a fish-tailed horse and call it the goddess of the sea. Will she come to claim him? Light pierces the waters, a golden spear. My lord! ''T’bal cries, ''you’ve come for me. ''He claws at the water and kicks feebly, following the light. Hands grasp his tunic and tear him from the sea’s cold embrace, and here ends the dream. The groaning of timber welcomes him to the world of the living. A cold wind cuts through the planks, through wet rags, flesh, bones. T’bal rises. The floor of the ship is flooded with water, vomit, and waste. T’bal stands ankle-deep in it. His people huddle together, their silence punctuated here and there by coughing or the wail of an infant. “Wise prophet,” Zagan calls from the crowded hull. The high-priest is gaunt, his robes no more than rags. A yellow pallor colors his face. “We lost another ship.” “Great is the tribulation of the people of Kabal,” T’bal announces. Despondent faces turn to him, eyes bright with hope. “Many more will be lost. This is the price of sin, of consorting with sorcerers and warlocks, or dabbling in dark magic and paying lip-service to unclean gods. But fear not! Those who survive the tribulation will know in their hearts that they belong to our glorious lord. The Atutu say, ‘Who is this god who turns not his wrath toward the enemies of his people? Who is this god who stays his hand, who does not save those who worship him?’” T’Bal marches to the rear of the ship. The storm has torn planks from the ship’s hull, exposing them to the elements. “Behold,” he says, leveling a skeletal finger at the plume of black smoke in the distance. “Kabal has answered these questions. Slow to anger, his wrath—when incited—burns hot.” When the Akkabites set sail moments after mount Horah erupted, their fleet numbered forty-nine. Now, T’bal counted only sixteen ships trailing behind them. How many would survive? ''Kabal, grant these people your mercy. When the Atutu forsook you, it was they who filled your service on your Holy Days. It was they who sang of your glory. Have mercy. Thunder rumbles on the distant horizon. '' Our lives are in your hands. We are yours to do with as you please.'' Shouts erupt above-deck. T’bal scrambles up the ladder, limbs infused with new life. His faith is shaken but he dwells not on his doubts. His people need his help. The deck of the fishing vessel is silent by the time T’bal reaches it. Zagan is only moments behind and he too falls silent. Kassim, Adom, T’morah, and the other sailors stare quietly at the distant horizon. Dark purple erupts in violent and bronze. Kabal rises, his crown tossing lances of light against the black clouds. In a moment, T’bal’s ship has cleared the storm. The night sky, visible for the first time in weeks, is fading from black to purple to blue. The sailors shout in joy and embrace each other. More flood the cargo hold in search of loved ones. Soon the deck is crowded and noisy with song and prayer. “He has saved us!” someone cries. “Praise Kabal!” The chant is taken up. “''Praise Kabal! Praise Kabal! Praise Kabal!” '' It fills the cool morning, muting the wind and sea in its wake. It fills T’bal with hope and, more importantly, certainty. T’morah has climbed the mast and now shouts down to the others. “I see land!” There is excitement in his voice, a rare thing. “Rejoice, my friends,” T’bal shouts, “for Kabal has shown us mercy as reward for our loyalty. He has shown us a sign: we are his people, the children of Kabal, and he will protect us so long as we do not stray from his embrace. “Alas,” he continues, “our tribulation is not finished. We will not know peace until we have found the land promised to us by our wise and loving god. This distant shore ahead is but a place to rest and replenish our supplies, nothing more. Others may dwell there, but they must not be trusted. Worshippers of unclean gods, wielders of dark magic; like the Atutu, these are not Kabal’s people.Do not let them lure you away from your divine right! T’bal finished: “Among the gods, Kabal reigns supreme: it is our destiny to take our place at his side, to rule supreme on Onos as he rules in heaven.”